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The Birth Story of Jacob Wild
- Aug 12, 2010 at 6:01 PM
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- Comments (21) Total Views (1144) Everyone can see this journal post.
It has been nearly a year and a half since the birth of my son Jacob, and I have never written out his birth story. I have had such animosity towards the actual birth that I've been unable to write down the specific detailing of the several days leading to his birth. I believe not detailing this earlier is really an injustice to the story as I've now forgotten most of the details which I would have been able to easily recall had I written the story a year ago. With that, the birth story of Jacob Garrison Wild is as follows.
On October 15, 2008 at 2:40 pm I had a routine appointment with the doctor who was to deliver my baby. While I had been seen at this office several times I had only actually met the doctor who was scheduled to deliver my baby one time prior. I sat in the exam room in my little paper gown waiting for Dr. Rivera. At the time Daniel was out of the county on a fire, but as there was still more than two weeks to my delivery, we thought nothing of it. When the doctor came into the room she did the customary ultrasound and then she instructed me to lie down and scoot my butt to the edge of the table as she was going to do my first vaginal exam to check for dilation. Since I had never had this procedure preformed I was unaware as to what to expect. What occurred next was extreme discomfort and actually pain. My body winced slightly and I even cried a little bit. I was extremely upset that none of my family member had told me that checking for dilation hurts. I didn't realize that it is not supposed to hurt and only months afterwards when I was conducting research on what went wrong during my delivery. What I discovered was that during this exam the doctor actually stripped my membranes unbeknownst to me. She had told me that my baby was going to be very large and that she wanted it to be delivered that week. I was dilated to 2 and 50% effaced. The prospect of having the baby while my husband was away scared me and I began to cry. She hugged me and I actually remember it feeling a little off.
Immediately after I left the office I began to have stronger contractions then I had had prior to that and I also began to have brown spotting. I also noticed that some of my mucous plug was coming out when I went to the bathroom. I drove to my mother's house where we timed the contractions and later the next day we decided to go to the hospital. While at the hospital a nurse came in and told me that this hospital no longer accepted my insurance and even though I had been registered at this particular hospital for months, that when the time actually came for me to have the baby I would not be delivering it at this hospital. I was monitored for an hour and it was decided that I was not in active labor and I was not dilated enough for them to keep me. I was released. Daniel drove home at this time but would still have to work at his normal station until the baby came.
I drove home alone as Daniel had to drive the work vehicle back and all the while I was having intermittent light contractions. I stayed the night at my own house and contractions had pretty much lightened up. The next day, which was Friday the 17th I decided to go outside to try to "walk my baby out". I was on the phone with my friend Amanda at around 4:00 when I felt a small gush of water. I told her that I think my water had broken and I would call her back. When I went to my house I saw that there was a straw colored liquid on the panty liner I had been wearing. I called my mom and sister since I knew that if my water broke I would need to go to the hospital immediately. We determined that my water had not actually broken but it was likely to be leaking since more water would come out every time I sat down and stood back up again.
I waited until 6:00 that evening, which was when Daniel got off of work, to go to the hospital. We got ready and drove, again, to the same hospital that had told me I wouldn't be able to labor there. I was again hooked up to the contraction and fetal monitoring. A nurse came into the room with a thin strip between her fingers and told me to spread my legs. She very quickly and very forcibly shoved the paper into my vagina. After less than two second she removed her hand, stared at the paper and declared that it was not amniotic fluid. Disappointed, Daniel and I were discharged from the hospital.
In the car we decided instead of driving the 45 minutes home that we would spend some time at walmart getting a few last minute essentials. When I got out of the car at walmart there was another gush and the front of my pants were again soaked with the mysterious fluid that was not pee and supposedly not amniotic fluid. I spent the remainder of the time at walmart trying to hide the spot from other customers. We decided to head to my mom's house for the night and try a different hospital in the morning since neither of us were convinced that I was not leaking amniotic fluid.
The night past uneventful and by about 9:00 the next morning we were heading to the hospital only after making a quick stop at Jack-in-the-Box for breakfast. I knew once I was admitted to the hospital that I would not be allowed to eat or drink anything and I wanted to make sure I had enough energy.
The new hospital, KMC, determined by about 9:30 that my water was not leaking but that I was likely to be in early labor as I was now dilated to 3 and 75% effaced. They kept me and it was decided that I would be induced with Pitocin after I received a course of antibiotics since my medical records were illegible and they were not sure if I was positive for Group B Strep. By 2:00 pm they had finally received legible records from my Dr. but decided I would remain on the antibiotics "just in case"; I was also started on a Pitocin drip.
Here is where my memory becomes kind of hazy and I am unaware of the actual times between 2:00pm and 11:32pm when my son was removed from my body. I know that after several hours on Pitocin my contractions were no longer hardening my stomach but instead were deep, low, pains. I also know that I was checked sometime between 7:00pm when shift change occurred and around 10:30pm when the Dr. came in to tell me I would need a c-section. When the nurse checked me my water broke and I was no longer allowed out of the bed even to use the restroom and at one point I was given a plastic bed pan to use but I never was actually able to use it. It was sometime after my water was broken that the contractions became really bad for me and I was barely able to find any comfort turning on to my side, holding the metal railings and crying out "oww, oww" each time a contraction would hit. I recall looking towards the monitor and seeing the distressed look on the nurse's face at seeing me cry out like this. At what I believe to be about 10:00pm I asked for an epidural. My nurse notified my Dr. and began preparations for a catheter. Shortly after the anesthesiologist was ushering everyone else out of the room. Within another 10 minutes or so the epidural was administered and Daniel was allowed back into the room. It was at this time that the Dr. who was on call for the practice I had been going to, but whom I had never before met, came into my room and changed my life with one sentence "I think it's time for a c-section." I did not ask question, I didn't need to. She was the Dr. and she knew better than me. By the time my mother and mother-in-law walked back into the room, after having to leave for the administration of the epidural, it was to the news that I would be having a c-section. I remember my mother having such a sad look on her face as she said to me "none of my babies have had to have a c-section."
Preparations began for my c-section, an O.R. was booked, the anesthesiologist was notified to come back and up the dosage, a nurse was brought in to shave my pubic hair and had it not been for her big mama bear humor I might have lost it then. I was wheeled down to another floor and placed in the hallway to wait for the O.R. to be prepared. I gave my husband my wedding ring and he took our video camera and my things, which we were not allowed to have in the O.R. with us back to our mothers who were in the waiting room. I was wheeled into the O.R. while my husband was away but was told shortly after that he was waiting outside and after I was on the operating table and the blue screen was placed to separate my abdomen from view that he would be allowed back in the room. I asked a few times if he could come in and he was nearly forgotten in the hallway as the Dr. began making the first cut. He sat to my right, the anesthesiologist to my left. Both of them kept me distracted from what was happening to my body, but I remember being so scared that I would die on the table cut open like that and I would never get to meet the beautiful baby who was growing inside of me.
After the incisions were made they began pushing hard on my stomach and rocking my body back and forth and then came the sweetest sound I have ever heard in my life. I began to sob with love for my baby, my son, I knew he was my son before anyone ever called out the sex. The anesthesiologist called out "It's a boy! We have an appendage!" and someone held my baby over the separating curtain for me and my husband to see him but because of the angle I didn't even get so much as a glimpse of him before he was carried over to be weighed and cleaned off. He was bundled and brought around by a nurse. I stared at this little burrito baby in awe. I felt a little disconnected from him but I knew I loved him more than I ever thought possible. I wasn't allowed to hold him because of the anesthesia but the nurse put him to my face so I could kiss him. He was less than two minutes old when the nurse, my husband and my baby left the operating room to meet his grandmas and to go to the nursery for his second Apgar score.
I was left alone in the O.R. as the Dr. continued to stitch me up. The anesthesiologist, who was still by my side, took it upon himself to talk to me and keep me calm and warm as I had started to shake uncontrollably. He was truly a shining light for how he treated me. When my Dr. had finished she left the room and I have never seen her since. I was moved back onto a gurney and walked into a recovery room by the anesthesiologist and my nurse. I was to be placed in the recovery room for two hours with no one but the nurse. She urged me to get some rest but I could hardly close my eyes with anticipation for finally getting to hold my son.
After two hours I was wheeled onto the maternity ward recovery but was not brought my baby. After several requests for him I was finally told that he was on a 6 hour hold in the NICU and he would be brought to me. I lay in bed crying for my baby, staring at the clock, and pleading with anyone who would listen to bring me my baby. I faded in and out of sleep watching under the curtain as little plastic bassinets were being wheeled to other waiting mothers. Finally between 6:00am and 6:30am some heaven sent nurse wheeled in my baby. She did not want to leave him with me initially because of my c-section and the fact that I was alone. I assured her that my husband would be right back to "watch me" and she left me to hold my beautiful son. I held him and kissed him and attempted to nurse him and foolishly believed he was mine to keep. My bubble was rudely burst when another nurse returned to my room about 30 minutes later saying that they were having shift change and all babies had to return to the nursery to be accounted for. I reluctantly handed him over when she reassured me he would be returned in no more than 30 minutes when everyone had been counted.....
6 hours later, with more crying and begging, my son was brought back again. The next few hours to follow are when he was introduced to family and he nursed and slept with me and everything seemed fine. I had been placed on a morphine drip after the c-section but refused to press the button to administer the drug until I absolutely could not stand it anymore. It made me fall asleep every time and after having already missed more than 12 hours of his life I was hesitant to miss anymore.
At around 4:00pm on Sunday October 19th my bubble was burst again when another nurse came into my room and told me that "something, something" was elevated and they had decided my son would need to be admitted into the NICU. This time I refused to sit and wait for someone to bring him back to me. I crawled out of bed and walked down the hall to the NICU, and let me tell you this is quite a feet for someone who has literally just been eviscerated. I held my baby, who was now tethered to several monitors and iv's, and nursed him till he slept. I remember I laid him back in his plastic bassinet but as I was going to leave he began to cry so I quickly picked him up again. At this time one of the NICU nurses ran to me and told me "If you want to pick him up you'll have to ask for help." At that moment I felt less than human, my butt was hanging out of the back of those stupid hospital gown, I was dirty, sticky, shoeless, running on about an hour or two of completely interrupted sleep in almost a 36 hour period and this woman was telling me I wasn't a capable enough parent to pick up my child without her help.
My seemingly perfectly healthy son remained in the NICU for the first week of his life. Luckily one very kind nurse managed to get him a private room in which I was able to sleep over, without this I do believe our breastfeeding relationship would have failed. To this day I am still not entirely sure why he was kept there being pumped full of antibiotics. When we were finally able to take him home I lived in complete fear that the hospital would call and say they needed him back.
The healing process for what happened in the days leading up to his birth has been long for me but I am at the point in my life where I believe that there was a lot that I should have done to speak up for myself. I should have asked more questions, I should have been less trusting and less meek. I needed to fight for what was better for my child and what was better for me, but I didn't know how. I have vowed to never be so ignorant and blindly trusting and to help educate others in any possible way.
Comments:
Wow! When reading your story, i just kept thinking, things like this only happen in 3rd world countries or in the movies, they never happen to real people. I can't imagine what you have gone through. Are you going to be delivering at the same hospital this time, or are you now scared of hospitals for life?
Wow, that sounds like the crappiest hospital ever. I am so sorry hun! Birth's are not supposed to be like that. ((((((hugs)))))
ha! I'm 4 months pregnant now and I've hired a midwife, whom I adore, and we are birthing at home!
oh mama i am so glad :) see we were planning a home birth with my now 9 month old.. but sadly it ended in a chop job if you would like you can look at my journals and you will find my story.. a lot of people have told me my c sec was truly necesary.. but to this day i question so.. only diff with mine is after the first 4 initial hours of being away from my baby i not once let them separate us.. they took her for like have an hour to torture her but i could hear her cries so i got my hurting ass up and went in there and told them they better back off ... so they did.. i over heard one of the nurses saying they were thinking of calling social services for how i was acting.. (denying vaxing and any other crazy test they wanted) but ive yet to hear anything from then instead they have been by my side all along...
Aweeeee. I LOVE your story!!!!!
Stinks that you went through soooo much trouble. =( I could picture you walknig around the hospital with your gown all uncoverred from the back trying to get to the baby. Well, now im glad your having a home pregnancy and happy with your midwife! ^_^
thank you so much for sharing your story! It will help others to see the light as well, perhaps even prevent more hospitals from treating their patients like this.
HUGS
WOW! Remind me never to go to that hospital! I am glad he didn't have to stay in there long! My last was in there for 16 days although she needed to be.... I am so sorry for how you were treated!
Oh wow. I knew that your birth with JBob was bad, but I had no idea how horribly you were treated. I know another girl who gave birth at KMC, and the nurses actually called her an idiot because during the pushing phase, she was afraid that she was going to have a bowel movement.
I'm so sorry that you went through this. May your next birth be full of love and peace, just like it should be! (I think I'm officially predicting a girl, btw. Don't know why, but it popped into my head when I was writing this.)
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*hugs* I am so sorry you had such a horrific experience but I do thank you for sharing this so others can be informed of just how America's maternity care truely is. This is why we've been planning our home birth for the past 7 months. :)
- palemoon21
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